


I'll Follow You

by ImNotKraftDinner



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Loss, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Captain America: The First Avenger, Cuddling, Hydra (Marvel), Hypothermia, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Trauma, Super Soldier Serum, Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24763291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImNotKraftDinner/pseuds/ImNotKraftDinner
Summary: Steve watched in horror as Bucky fell from the side of the train. Then, Steve Rogers let go of the train car and fell with him.~~~An AU of The First Avenger where Steve let go of the train and has to help a severely injured Bucky survive in the Alps with Hydra on their tails.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 9
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in my head for a while and finally worked up the nerve to post it.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I am not a doctor and have no idea if most/any of the field medicine done in this fic would actually work. Please do not use this as medical advice.
> 
> How do injuries work? Idk. Suspend your disbelief.

“Steve.”

“Hm?”

“Steve, Britain just declared war.”

Steve looked up from his drawing to where Bucky was sitting at their small table listening to the radio. Sunlight was streaming in through the open window and Steve could barely hear the crackle of the radio over the sounds of the Brooklyn streets. It was early September and fall had not yet gotten its grip around the neighborhood, which was as lively as ever. Steve put down his pad of paper and piece of charcoal and got up from the coach to go sit across from Bucky.

From the device, a voice wavered, and Steve strained to hear it.

 _“….and consequently, this country is at war with Germany_."

Bucky shifted and fiddled with the dials on the radio to try and make the sound quality better. “That’s Prime Minister Chamberlain,” he said as the voice got fuzzier and clearer. 

The sun was hot. Here, on a warm Sunday with no immediate concerns, the thought of a war across the sea seemed as distant as the cold winters that had nearly taken Steve out in the past couple years. And yet.

“Just because Britain’s at war, doesn’t mean we’ll follow” said Steve looking out the window.

“I know.”

“But if we do?” Steve asked finally able to look Bucky in the eyes. He understood what he saw there. They’ve both grown with the same strain of cynicism and resilience, through their poor childhoods, family deaths, and all of Steve’s illnesses. Steve knew the answer before he even asked the question.

Bucky stared back. “I guess then I’ll fight. I’ve got no right to do any less.”

Steve nodded and broke eye contact to stare at his hands. They were stained with charcoal. He thought back on all of his ailments over the past year alone, how much Bucky had already sacrificed to make sure both he and Steve were still kicking year after year.

Steve cleared his throat. “I’ll enlist too.”

Bucky gave a small nod and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He reached over and changed the radio frequency until music was playing. Steve went back to his drawing.

Two years and 3 months later they were both walking into an enlistment building.

\--------

_“Remember when I made you ride the cyclone at Coney Island?”_

_“Yeah and I threw up?”_

_“This isn’t pay-back, is it?”_

Steve watched in horror as Bucky fell from the side of the train. The moment seemed to drag on forever as Steve realized that the railing was breaking, and that Bucky was too far for Steve to reach him. The train that they were on was travelling fast over an icy ravine in the Alps near the Austria-Italy border. It was at least a 300ft drop to the ground, a sleet-gray river breaking up the landscape of snow-covered rocks. No regular human could survive that fall.

Bucky Barnes was dead.

His body would be left there, thousands of miles from his New York home. All his family would get would be a telegram telling them of their son’s death in the line of duty.

Steve couldn’t let that happen. Bucky should be buried with honours, not mangled and frozen somewhere in enemy territory.

Without a thought more, as impulsive a decision as he’s ever made, Steve Rogers let go of the side of the train car and fell with him.

In the end, it could have been worse. Steve knew that the serum would allow his body to survive such a fall, but he didn’t know the state he would be in. He groaned as he lay where he landed on his left side, curled up to protect his major organs from the fall. The snow piled up around him as he did a quick assessment of his body, the cold helping to numb the pain that started to creep in.

Two broken fingers on his left hand. Potentially a broken rib, maybe just a fracture. Various scrapes. There was going to be the mother of all bruises all along his left thigh, hip, and torso within the hour, and his head pounded like a barrage of Nazi bullets, but ultimately, he was okay.

He was alive.

Steve was surprised that the damage wasn’t worse considering the highest he’d fallen before had been out the third-floor window of a hydra factory that was being blown up, and when that happened, he had his shield to land on.

His very useful shield, which was still on the floor of a long-gone train, along with his mask.

“Shit.” He lamented, his voice scratchy and too loud in the peaceful quiet of the Austrian mountainside.

Steve started to pick himself up, his feet slipping a little on the snowy rocks before finding purchase. The boots he wore weren’t the most ideal for the situation, but they would have to do. He stood up fully, fighting the smarting pain from one side of his whole body, and looked around.

In another situation, the mountains would be beautiful. They rose tall on either side of him, icy and sheer. The train tracks were on a brick bridge that jut out from the mountain at the top of the ridge on one side. The river moved sluggishly through ice that wanted to clog its path, but it was not frozen, and the water promised to be pure and fresh. Everything was gray and white, the overcast sky and drifting snow helping to wash out the landscape. Part of Steve ached to paint it, but the rest of him warned himself of potential danger from the train tracks above. He felt open, with nowhere to hide amongst the rocks. Exposed.

Bucky stood out like a sore thumb; his navy jacket was the largest spot of colour around. The jacket and the red of his blood were sharp against the white snow. Steve saw Bucky’s body lying not too far away, and something caught in his throat as he started stumbling towards him.

“Oh Bucky…” Steve mumbled as he reached the body and crashed to his knees.

Things were never supposed to turn out like this.

Bucky looked relatively peaceful lying there except for the pretty sizeable gash on his leg and the damage done to his arm. Oh God his arm. Bucky’s left arm looked crushed, practically severed above his elbow, as if it took the brunt of the impact from his fall. Even through his thick jacket, Steve could tell that it was shredded. His bones just weren’t made of the same stuff that Steve’s were.

Steve reached down to touch it, to move the arm to a position that’s less grotesque, one less horrific to look at.

His vision was blurry as he went to shift the arm, but as soon as he touched it, he heard a pained moan.

His gaze whipped up, seeing the minute rise and fall of the chest that he missed before. 

“Holy hell Buck, you’re alive?”

Bucky didn’t verbally respond but Steve saw a flash of pale blue eyes before they closed again in apparent unconsciousness instead of death.

Steve’s heart started beating fast, like it had once before when he jumped on that practice grenade thinking it was a live weapon. That was back when he was weaker, before he got the health of a super soldier.

Steve knew that Hydra had done experiments on Bucky a few years back when he got captured with a large chunk of the one-oh-seventh. It was believed Hydra was trying to recreate the super serum that had transformed Steve and were using P.O.W.’s as test subjects. Bucky had become arguably stronger and a better sniper since his time as a prisoner, but his body hadn’t shown the same results as Steve’s, so the U.S. Army didn’t believe that Hydra had been successful.

Now looking at his friend impossibly alive, Steve wondered if they got some things right after all. Enough, at least, that Bucky was strong enough to survive the fall.

All Steve knew is that this changed everything.

He didn’t have time to marvel now, as this meant that Bucky was hurting, bad, and moving him through the mountains was going to be more difficult than carrying a dead body. Looking around, Steve saw that there was an overhang a little bit away on the ridge by the train. A small partially dry patch of land had existed beneath it, and the ridge also would provide at least some shelter from any watching eyes above.

Steve walked behind Bucky and scooped him underneath his good arm.

“I’m sorry Bucky, this is going to hurt.” He said before he half carried, half dragged Bucky over to the spot. It’s a testament to how much pain Bucky was in that he barely did more than wheeze and let out a few more groans as he was moved.

Steve finally got Bucky sitting and leaning against the rock wall and now reality started to set in.

“Think Rogers, think.” He said while crouched over his friend’s body.

First, he had to deal with Bucky’s arm. There was no way that they’d be able to start moving until Steve took care of that to the best of his ability.

At the start of the war, Steve would have had no idea what to do to when faced with such an injury. Normally Steve was the one getting hurt, not the one doing the healing. Basic army training and years of fighting at the front had given him at least a small understanding of first aid so he wasn’t at a total loss. Unfortunately, he’d not seen much worse.

Steve didn’t know if he could save the arm. He peeled the jacket sleeve back and it looked like it was nearly severed. Steve needed to work quickly to stop any more blood loss before Bucky ended up dying after all. Bucky wasn’t wearing any gloves and Steve could see that the fingers on his left hand were already turning blue from the lack of circulation, which meant by the time they got back to the army base it might be too late and the flesh of his arm could be too rotten to save. All Steve could do was to try and numb Bucky’s pain, stop the blood flow, and preserve the arm as best as possible.

Steve started to gather snow. He held the sleeve of Bucky’s jacket open gingerly and shoveled the snow in as deep as he could. Bucky’s skin was still warm enough to start melting the snow and the jacket arm started to get wet. Hopefully the cold air temperature would freeze the sleeve and stop the flesh from starting it’s decaying process. There was a risk of frost bite, but it appeared that Bucky’s skin was dying anyway. The ice would hopefully help with the pain too.

The sleeve was full to Steve’s satisfaction and now he just needed to find a way to secure it, while also applying pressure above the separation to limit blood loss. He grabbed the knife on his belt and looked for something he could use to tie around Bucky’s wrist. The leather straps that Steve used to secure his shield to his back were now useless, so Steve started to saw through the thick material.

“Steve…?”

Steve jumped even though the voice was weak. He immediately stopped cutting the straps and rushed forward to cup the side of Bucky’s head.

“Hey Buck, yeah I’m here, it’s okay,” He said, nodding. “I’m here, how’re you feeling?”

Bucky gazed up at him, his face pale and his eyes watery. He started to list to the side and Steve found himself supporting Bucky’s full weight when he couldn’t right himself against the rock.

Bucky blinked and pulled in a shuddering breath. “It – everything hurts Steve, how the fuck d’you think I’m feeling?”

Steve sighed. “You know what I mean. Can you move your legs, your back? It was a pretty nasty fall.”

Bucky still appeared dazed as he looked past Steve around the canyon.

Steve grew more concerned. “How’s your head? Oh god, is your brain hurt? How much do you remember?”

Bucky shifted under Steve’s concerned grasp and looked up at the train tracks above them, his face scrunching up at the height.

“I fell from there, right? I-I think I remember. We had a mission, and I was fightin’ something while holding your shield and I got blasted to the outside of the train car.”

He frowned at Steve, reaching out with his right hand to grab at Steve’s wrist, absentmindedly feeling the fabric there as he spoke. “How did you end up down here anyway? Have I been out that long? I thought I didn’t reach you in time. The rail broke, but y-you were still on the train, and then I was falling, thinking I was going to die.” Bucky got quiet as his voice quivered towards the end of his sentence.

Then the fingers on Steve’s wrist paused abruptly as Steve avoided Bucky’s eyes and blushed. Bucky gasped. “Steven Grant Rogers, tell me you did not jump off a train after me.”

Steve neither confirmed nor denied it, just went back to cutting up his shield straps.

“Of all the reckless, dumb things I have ever seen you do, this takes the cake.” Bucky spluttered, trying to prop himself up to appear more indignant as he continued his rant, but it didn’t really have the desired effect when he let out a whine at his own movement. He leaned against the rock wall and started panting instead. “Oh fuck, my head. My head really hurts Steve.”

Steve brought the leather straps to Bucky’s mangled wrist and started tying it to hang from his neck in a makeshift sling. He used the other one to tie a tourniquet of sorts above the wound.

When he looked up his face was inches away from Bucky’s own.

“I just-” he swallowed, lowering his eyes again, “I just had to get you back. Your body. Couldn’t leave you here.”

“Oh.” Said Bucky quietly. “Thanks. Guess I screwed things up by being alive then. I imagine I’ll be less useful than a corpse.”

Steve glared at him. “Don’t even joke about that.” He finished tying the straps and looked at his handiwork.

“Does it look like it feels?” Bucky asked. “Cause I’ll be honest I don’t feel much.” His eyes got a little wild, as things started to catch up with him. “I can’t feel my arm Steve.”

“I know, I know. It’s not good Buck. But it’ll be okay. We’ll get you to a doctor and you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah and how’ll we do that? You got a plan?” Bucky gave a sharp laugh that ended in a grimace. “Isn’t that what they say, Captain America, the man with the plan.”

“Star spangled.” Said Steve automatically.

“What?”

“The star-spangled man with the plan. Never mind.” Steve dug around in his utility belt pocket and pulled out a thick folded up piece of paper. “Well I think we’ll start with this. I still got my map of the Alps. I say we make our way back along the track lines, avoid known Hydra areas, and find the nearest village that we can get a car from.”

Steve looked around at the quiet mountainside. He didn’t trust it. Hydra was on that train, and there was a good chance that they got word that Captain America fell down the deep ravine.

“We’ve got to get going. I wouldn’t put it past Hydra to come looking for us.”

“Just point me in the right direction.” Said Bucky, and he tried to get to his feet. He barely managed to get his legs under him before a gasp of pain escaped him and his eyes rolled back in his head. He collapsed to the ground in a sprawl of limbs, unconscious once more. Steve immediately scooped him under his shoulders and knees, being careful around his left arm as Bucky stirred towards consciousness.

“Careful now, you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“Nngh.”

Bucky was a solid weight, but with Steve’s super strength he didn’t feel any heavier than the crates of apples Steve used to haul for the grocers down the street to earn some extra cash.

Bucky leaned his head against Steve’s left shoulder, his eyes closed in exhaustion.

“I’m feelin’ like a dame,” He said with a hint of frustration. “Not used to it. I’m normally the one carrying you.”

Steve chuckled. “Come on now, that didn’t happen that often back home.”

“Only every time you got two drinks in ya,” Said Bucky. “You would be stumbling’ around and I’d have to help you up the stairs to the apartment or you would just go tumbling down.”

Steve sighed and started walking, taking small even steps and keeping close to the ravine wall.

“Well you won’t have to do that anymore. Don’t even think I can get drunk at all, let alone off two drinks.”

Bucky looked up at Steve and said quietly, “Yeah, guess not.”

~~~

Three men in heavy, warm coats stood around the blood on the cold ground.

“Well, we can assume that they survived,” Said the one closest to the stain, as he knelt to get a better look. “Or, at least, one of them did.”

The man stood up and light gleamed off the Hydra insignia that he had pinned to his lapel.

“Find them.” He barked at one of the other two men, who immediately jumped to attention. “Call in our best team. Zola wasn’t done with his experimenting, and this is a perfect opportunity to rid Hydra of Captain America once and for all.”

“Yes, sir.” Said the lower ranking man, who pulled out a Hydra boosted radio and started relaying the message.

The officer looked at the direction of the smeared blood and smiled. Alone and hurt. There was no way Captain America was escaping alive this time.


	2. Chapter 2

Eventually they made it to a forested area. The day was turning into night, the woods getting dark and full of shadows. They had deviated from the train tracks shortly after getting started, but that barely gave Steve a sense of security.

Bucky was half walking, half stumbling as he clung to Steve with his arm around Steve’s neck. They made an awkward pair. The progress was slow as every so often Steve would set Bucky down and try to clear some of the tracks they left behind. Every time Steve returned and bent down to haul Bucky up, Bucky looked a little more dazed and tired, which concerned Steve. He thought back to the days that Bucky was captured with the rest of the 107th. What had Hydra done to him in those days that allowed him to survive the fall, but only make it out half healed? They clearly hadn’t managed to manufacture and give him fully functioning Super Soldier Serum, or his health would not be declining. Bucky needed a lot of help just to stay upright, and his ragged breathing seemed to be getting worse.

They were trudging towards a small town on the map, one that they passed before they intercepted the train. The town was around 25 miles from where Steve estimated they landed, which if Steve was healthy and without Bucky would have only taken him around 5 hours to get to. As it were, they were approaching the 5 hour mark and they were still a few hours away. There was no way they would be able to reach the town before true night fell. They needed to find a spot to stay the night, fast. Even with the relative protection of the forest, Steve wasn’t ready to settle down just yet. He needed to put more distance between them and the place where they fell.

Still, he thought as he looked at Bucky’s pained face, they would need to rest. And Steve would need to find them shelter.

In the end they were lucky. Eventually the Austrian mountain side provided them with a cave large enough for them to camp in overnight and be protected from the blustery winds. The pair stumbled into the entrance, and Bucky collapsed against the wall with a groan. He was pale, shaking, and his dark hair was falling in front of his face. Steve took a moment after setting him down to just look at him. Earlier today, for a few moments, Steve thought Bucky was dead. Steve had experienced loss before, from fellow soldiers he met on the front, to Dr. Erskine, to his parents. Each time it happened it felt like a part of him went with them. The thought of losing Bucky too was unbearable.

Steve didn’t want to leave Bucky alone for a second, afraid that when he came back that spark of life would be gone. The experimentation that had saved his life from the fall was failing him. Steve could see that Bucky was losing too much blood, as it now sluggishly pooled on the stone ground beside him. But they needed firewood if they were going to survive the cold night, and Bucky was in no condition to join him in foraging.

“I’m not going to go far Buck,” Steve said as he helped situate Bucky’s decimated left arm. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Mmhmm, sounds good.” Bucky replied in a pained gasp, his eyes closed.

Steve stood, but couldn’t take a step away, hyper-aware of how vulnerable Bucky was at this moment. If Hydra showed up and Steve wasn’t there…

“Take this.” He said no-nonsense, shoving the handle of his pocketknife into Bucky’s good hand.

Bucky gave him a weird look. “I think this’ll be more useful to you, fella. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Buck, please, just take it.”

They made eye contact for one moment, then two, before Bucky sighed, and said “Okay.”

Steve made his way to the cave opening, only looking back at the very end to view Bucky, hidden in the dark gloom with the barest of light glinting off of the knife he gripped tightly in his hand.

It took Steve a long time to find firewood. Most of the ground was covered in snow, which seeped into the wood and made it wet and unusable. Eventually he found a rock structure that provided enough shelter that the branches beneath it were mostly dry. Steve collected as much as he could, his side aching as he headed back to the cave. In all the commotion since finding Bucky alive, Steve had nearly forgotten that he had been hurt too. He shifted the weight of the wood and soldiered on.

They still had a far journey ahead of them. Steve had a couple of ration bars in his belt pocket, so they were okay for food in the meantime. The pair had been periodically eating the fresh snow throughout the day to stay hydrated, so water was not an issue either for the time being. What worried Steve was what would happen once they got to the town. It was marked as occupied on his map and he needed to get Bucky to safety. That would be challenging with a bunch of German soldiers breathing down his neck.

Steve pushed that thought out of his mind as he approached their resting spot. He would just have to deal with whatever challenges there were when he got there. Whatever it takes.

It was so dark and still in the cave that Steve’s heart gave a lurch as he thought that Bucky was gone. Then he heard the gasp of Bucky’s pained breathing and Steve realized that he was still there, but his condition had worsened.

Steve dropped the firewood and rushed to his side, fumbling to feel Bucky’s forehead in the dark.

“ ‘m okay, ‘m okay,” Bucky mumbled as he shifted his head from side to side, his skin clammy under Steve’s hand. The knife fell to the ground from his lax grip. It seemed whatever super healing abilities that his body had weren’t enough to fully stop his body from shutting down after the amount of blood he had lost. Steve had seen this a few times before, and it was never good.

“Oh Buck, how long has it been this bad?”

“I’m not sure,” Bucky rasped, leaning his head into Steve’s hand. “I’m tired Steve. Cold.”

Steve brushed his other hand through Bucky’s sweat soaked hair. They were woefully unprepared for this. All Steve could think was to keep Bucky warm and wait for his body to heal. Hopefully a few hours rest would allow his healing abilities to catch up.

“Just give me a moment and I’ll start a fire and get you warm. Why don’t you lie down?”

Steve’s eyes were adjusting to the dim light as he helped lower Bucky to the ground. His navy coat made his pale complexion look even more waned and ill. Bucky’s lifeless arm swung down, causing him to shudder as it came into his field of view. It did not look good, grey and black and blue, with splotches of red blood peaking through.

“Don’t look at that Bucky,” Steve urged. “Look at me, yeah? Look at me.”

Bucky’s eyes, large and pale and blue, shifted and latched on to Steve.

Steve busied himself building the fire. When the base of branches and kindling was built, he pulled a matchbook out of one of the pockets on his utility belt, thankful that he always felt the need to be prepared when heading out on a mission. Within a few minutes a small but hot fire was burning, lighting the cave in a warm, orange, glow. Steve felt a moments hesitation at the chance that Hydra agents could spot them, but they needed the heat. The temperature was only dropping in the European mountain side.

Steve turned back to where Bucky was laying, and saw that Bucky was still looking at him, following Steve’s movements with half-closed eyes. Heat-rose to his cheeks. Unbidden, memories came back of another winter, years ago, where it was Steve who was ill and delirious. A cold made worse by his chronic asthma. Bucky had made sure that at night Steve didn’t freeze to death and that he was taken care of as he recovered. The pair of them sat in front of the fireplace in the evening. Bucky filled the silence talking about his day, and all Steve had the energy to do was lean against him, close his eyes, and listen. But it was nice. Steve wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

For so long, that’s how it had been, Bucky taking care of Steve. When they were children, it was Bucky who stood up for him and stood by his side against the school-yard threats. When Steve’s mom passed, it was Bucky who was there to take him in, telling him Steve didn’t have to do any of it on his own. Through all of Steve’s illnesses, Bucky was the one who cared.

Then, there was the war. Then, Steve took the serum. Now, everything has shifted.

Steve’s body didn’t get sick anymore. He could run without hacking up a lung, could climb mountains and scale walls without breaking an sweat. He could hear and see without trouble, and he no longer felt the heavy fatigue that seemed to follow him everyday just while he was living. There would be no more days of Steve incapacitated, sitting with Bucky in front of the fireplace. His health was a gift he would be grateful for and appreciate for the rest of his life, but Steve had to wonder why it seemed that the good things always had to leave with the bad.

Steve approached Bucky’s side, watching as the firelight danced across his face. He sat down beside him, his knee near Bucky’s head.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked.

Bucky barely stirred.

“I’m cold,” he said, shifting ever so slightly towards the fire.

“It’s going to be a long night Bucky, but you’ll feel better in a couple hours once your body has healed some more. Here, I’ll try to keep you warm.”

Steve slowly and carefully lifted up Bucky’s shoulders. He scooted behind him so that Steve could lean against the cave wall and Bucky was resting between his legs, his head on Steve’s torso. Hopefully Steve’s body heat would be able to help.

The wind picked up for a second and a cold breeze entered the cave, causing Bucky to shiver more. Steve curled over him trying to block as much wind as he could. It had been a long, stressful day. Was it really only a few hours ago that they were ziplining onto a train to try and capture Dr. Zola? He wondered if the other Howling Commandos were successful in grabbing him, if they had figured out what Hydra was planning. It was sure to be something bad, and a wave of guilt washed over Steve as he thought of how he put the mission at risk when he followed Bucky. Bucky shifted in his arms and the wave of guilt passed.

Bucky closed his eyes and tucked his head into Steve’s warmth. He muttered something, but it was so soft that Steve didn’t hear it the first time. He leaned closer so his head was right beside Buckys.

“Thanks Steve,” Bucky repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Steve tightened his arms around him. “There’s nothing to thank me for. You’d be doing the same for me.”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky nodded, getting closer and closer to sleep. He drew in another rattling breath. “Still, don’t know where I’d be without you. I’m glad that you’re here. That you followed me.”

“I’ll always follow you.”

“I know. Couldn’t keep you away if I wanted to.”

They were quiet after that. Bucky fell into an deep sleep, and as the wind howled and the fire burned, all Steve could hope was that Hydra knew enough about the serum that in a few hours Bucky would wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter than before, but I feel like it's ending in the right place

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying it so far!


End file.
